


If you think I'm gonna let you leave me, guess again

by seasonschange



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Parenting, D/s undertones if you squint, Dark, Domestic Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rhys is still a general human disaster, Siren Rhys, Slow Burn, Torture, introducing madeup siren powers because all i know about sirens comes from wiki (thanks wiki), original bad guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:22:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7617958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasonschange/pseuds/seasonschange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his capture by Handsome Jack, the improbable male Siren known as 'Rhys' was considered an oddity too strange to kill, and ended up in one of Hyperion's secret underground facilities, where he was left in the hands of ruthless scientists tasked with finding out his abilities, and a way to best exploit them for future profit. Which left Rhys with few options: survival at any cost, even if that meant becoming the Devil's attack dog.</p><p>Or just fake it until the first opportunity to escape arised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vesperify](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesperify/gifts), [Karaeir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karaeir/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started kinda freeform, as in _"I have no clue where the fuck this story's going but it's currently exciting to me so I'm doing it anyway"_. Now, I'm not sure about every details yet but in the time I had to plot this thing, I've come up with an epic ride, IF MY MUSE ALLOWS IT. So, buckle up!
> 
> Many thanks always to @Ju & @Roni for introducing me to Borderlands & Rhack <3

* * *

_"Hey, Specimen R27! Focus in there! We'll go through the procedure one more time, and then you're free to crawl back to your pen."_

Rhys almost slipped on the slick chrome flooring when he heard the insistent rapping on the glass before the exasperated voice filtered through the speakers. Luckily he managed to find his equilibrium before it was too late, and salvage the few shreds of dignity he'd left.

He was inside the vast chamber he'd come to notice was only used for the indoors experiments that didn't involve anyone but Rhys. It was usually where they tried to drive his powers into manifesting themselves through physical means, one painful way or another. Rhys still couldn't say if he preferred it to being thrown inside one of the monsters' pens and having to overcome the bone-deep panic that could very well trigger his powers if he weren't careful. They never let the mutated stalkers and bullymongs close enough to turn him into a midnight snack - but the constant stress of being left there was starting to take its toll on his body, and sooner or later, he was bound to give in willing or not.

Rhys glared in the general direction of the scientist who'd spoken, but was blatantly ignored by both he and his colleague, their attentions back on their multiple screens, getting ready to monitor the results of the next experiment.

 _Crawl back to my pen, huh? Imma give you_ crawling _, you Hyperion bastard._

A few days ago - or at least he hoped it'd been days - Rhys would have had no problem voicing that opinion for everyone in the control room to hear. Unfortunately, that habit had been beaten out of him by the heavily armed militia patrolling the facility, occasionally charged with disciplining the rest of the imprisoned creatures when they were being uncooperative. Rhys could have probably taken some of the guards down whenever that happened, but he'd decided against using his abilities on the facility grounds, or in plain view of any of the loathed scientists. He couldn't decide if he did it out of pure spite for being captured and detained like he were just another of their mindless test subjects he could hear roaring at night.

Or because of the debilitating terror submerging him whenever he contemplated what Hyperion would turn him into if they were to find out what he was truly capable of. Because although he trusted that he could take any of those mercenaries every day and leave noting but a pile of gore and crushed bones behind - a single bullet was still more than enough to kill him, or incapacitate him enough to be captured anew. And then who knew how much more creative the torture would become? Or the power their newfound knowledge could have over him.

So for now, his abilities were his secret, and his alone.

However, Rhys was beginning to doubt how long he could endure before he reached his breaking point. He had no idea if deep down, he was brave enough to let them conduct their tests on him until it _killed_ him, rather than simply... give in. Because it'd be  _so easy_ to just say 'fuck it' to pride, and morale, and free will, and embrace Hyperion's nefarious schemes to use him as a living weapon. A weapon they could hide in plain sight, and give a fake identity and send to infiltrate every bandit camp they wanted to eradicate. Or any of the decaying cities they wanted to terrorize.

Rhys could only hope that when the time eventually came where he could not stand this anymore, in both body and spirit - that he would make the right choice.

And be able to live with it.

 _"Stand still,"_ the authoritative voice crackled from somewhere above.

That was the only warning Rhys got before the ceiling shifted open and the now familiar floating sphere was dropped inside the chamber with him. The robot was visibly high-tech, unusually quiet for something so big, if only for its unobtrusive ventilation system. It was way more advanced than the prosthetic they'd given _him_ ; a basic piece of trash with barely any use in lieu of his previous platinum arm.

The sphere shifted so that the capital HYPERION logo was facing away from the Siren, and immediately took to hovering around him.

This time around, Rhys didn't try to follow its agitated bobbing up in the air, letting it instead scan him with its eye and take measure of his biometrics. After all, the faster they were done here, the faster he could go back to his force-field dome at the farthest side of the facility, and have some (relative) peace and quiet at last.

_"Proceed with the base of the radial nerve, 15 milliamperes. And then we'll follow that up with... what would you suggest?"_

Rhys lost track of the conversation going on in the adjacent room when the sphere aimed and then discharged the announced amount of electricity into the crook of his elbow. He cried out in equal parts pain and shock and staggered backwards, feet skidding again on the unnaturally smooth surface.

He landed on his ass -  _hard -_  loosing all focus on the world around him as his brain rattled inside his skull. His human arm was burning like it had caught on fire, but there was none of the dreaded sensations of his Siren powers arising.

And no smell of cooked flesh, which was also good.

His poor excuse of a metal arm twitched at the elbow with a creaky sound, a spark flying. It didn't feel like it had sustained any damage, but if they kept amplifying the level of electroshock there was no way it wasn't going to overload and end up exploding in his face. Rhys rubbed at his shoulder with the numb fingers of his left arm, where flesh met hard metal, and sighed. Since there was little he could do about it, Rhys pushed that thought away and stashed it somewhere at the back of his brain - something else to worry about at a later time.

After the dizziness had subsided, he blinked back the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, breaths coming in ragged and fast. And once his limbs were finally done shaking, he carefully stood back up.

The sphere was still there, floating five feet above the ground and awaiting further instructions. Its eye glowed a deep, vaguely alarming red as it kept track of Rhys, zooming in and out with a soft clicking sound.

 _"If I'm correct,"_  he heard the second scientist say in a monotonous tone, _"we haven't tried the tibial nerve, yet. When stimulated, it's been known to trigger the venom spray in certain species of spiderants. Couldn't hurt to test that theory when none of the usual trigger points for Phaselock and Phasewalk are bearing any results."_

 _"Alright,"_ the other acquiesced after a brief pause. _"Robosphere, proceed with the tibial nerve. And bring the charge down to 14.5 milliamperes, then administer another at 15.5 milliamperes. I'm still not convinced we're using the right dosage."_

Rhys felt his hands curl into fists at his sides, and he had to fight off the tingling sensation that was blooming in the left side of his chest, and gradually trickling up his arm towards the tips of his fingers. His tattoos flashed once, a faint dark blue glow, and it took everything he had left to smother it before it was too late.

The sphere bleeped once, signaling that it had detected unusual activity.

Rhys heard one of the scientists let out an excited gasp through the speakers, and he had to grind his teeth to keep from blurting out death threats like the last time they'd almost managed to break his resolve. Because the last time, they'd called in the two mercenaries always stationed at the doors and they'd dislocated his jaw in retaliation.

So brows furrowed and sweat pouring down his face from the sheer effort of holding it all in - he took a deep breath and readied himself for the next round.

He _had_ to contain his powers as best as he could. For as long as he could stand it.

He was not done screwing up the Hyperion assholes' plans just yet.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title literally coming from Jack's mouth:


	2. Vault Treasure

* * *

_The Vault is empty._

_The Vault is absolutely,_ tragically _empty. There's only an unconscious man sprawled naked on the other side of the intricate plateau, and from what little Jack can distinguish in between the moving shadows surrounding this unfamiliar dimension - his left side is a seamless pattern of strangely familiar symbols._

 _Jack is stunned speechless when he reaches the plateau at first; shame and disappointment like_  acid _in the pit of his stomach. All those years... all those resources spent on finding another Vault... all of that just to bring him to this very moment._

 _And there's_ nothing _._

 _No glory. No great discovery. There's no bounty here; just a portal with a poor schmuck inside who by some_ goddamn _miracle has managed to beat them to the Vault. And was probably stabbed in the back by his own team._

_Jack knows that feeling all too well._

_His laugh surprises him, springing out of nowhere, and it's as loud as it is humorless. The sound echoes through the alien cavern, bitter and strident, amplified by a thousand - and startles the other man awake._

_"What happened to the riches?" Jack demands and steps closer, eyes ablaze with rage, voice booming like thunder. He's_ definitely _not pleased with this outcome, and his business partners waiting for him on the other side will skin him alive and turn him into slippers if he shows up empty-handed._ _"Where is the Eridium? The alien artifacts? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY?!"_

_The man groans, and slowly curls up on his left side, away from Jack. And in the process, reveals an arm entirely made out of metal. It looks like white gold, or platinum maybe. Nothing exceptional, until Jack's eyes zero in on the flat tubes lining the back of it._

_They shimmer with a substance inside that radiates an electric purple._

_Not the murky derivative that is the toxic slag, traditionally added to enforce a certain kind of ammunitions._

_The highly volatile, highly unpredictable_ Eridium.

_Jack pulls the arm away from the man's side with the heel of his boot and steps on the juncture between forearm and elbow, effectively pinning it to the ground. He whistles in admiration, deaf to the pitiful sounds of complaint that the other makes._

_It's a superb piece of tech. He can probably send it to someone at R &D, check what it's made out of and why the hell it seems to be loaded up with the rare mineral._

_"Anyway! Answers, please?"_

_Jack applies more pressure on the metal arm and sighs as the man squirms beneath him, but doesn't offer any explanations. He's about to opt for a more 'delicate' strategy and see if he can get him into a more cooperative mood by playing the merciful card, but that's the exact moment the other guy picks to punch his leg with his remaining limb._

_His laughable attempt at getting free only earns him a kick in the stomach, and then a few more that eventually send him tumbling down the crudely shaped flight of stairs._

_"Ouch," Jack offers. "I hope that hurt."_

_He follows, shaking his head in disbelief, and upon reaching the man he squats next to him and pulls him halfway up by his hair._

_This has lasted long enough - there's no fucking time for games, he reminds himself._ _So he pulls until he knows it truly_ hurts _, twisting the other man's body, practically bending it in half; until the other is staring at him with wide mismatched eyes - one brown, the other crystal blue. Both shining with agony._

_And fear._

_"Hey there, gorgeous. How about we try something simpler, then:_ who _the fuck are you_ _?"_

_The man remains silent, lips pinched in a stubborn, bloodless line. He's got a few cuts and bruises from his fall (and from Jack's boot) that are already showing on his pale complexion, which must be why the moment Jack makes a new request, the fear in his eyes melts into determined fury._

_He must be that kind who hold grudges for decades, Jack thinks. God damn it._

_He frowns, irritation mounting in the face of the other guy's lack of cooperation._ God _but he hates having to pull the truth out of touchy assholes. They always take the longest time to spit it out._

_And that's a long time that Jack doesn't have. So he grabs hold of the man's head with both hands, and full-on knees him in the face._

_The blow breaks the man's nose, judging from the sickening sound of cartilage and the pained cry that tears through the man's throat._

_Blood spurts out, and quite a lot of it._

_When Jack pulls the man's head up again to check the damage, there's a river of red gushing from the man's nose, dribbling down his mouth and chin._

_"Who. Are. You. And don't make me ask again 'cus I'm warning ya, next time I won't be all 'sugar and spice and everything nice'!"_

_The man is lost in a coughing fit no doubt caused by the amount of blood streaming down his throat. But once the worst of it is over, he finally complies._

Smart _man._

_"Nnnnghh... My name's... nhhh, Rhys...."_

_He inadvertently spits blood when he speaks, spraying the collar of Jack's shirt._

_Jack notices with a grimace, and he's about to deal some more damage when something else draws his attention away from the stains on his favorite shirt._

_The Rhys guy's entire left side has started to emit a faint, warning glow. The tattoos there are drawn in mostly circular shapes, from neck to ankle, and though they strongly differ from those he's seen on Angel or Lilith, they shine... just the same._

_Dark blue._

_Dangerous._

_And insanely powerful._

_Yet the man - Rhys - doesn't attack him. Neither with the left nor the metallic arm. He just keeps breathing loud and hard, and occasionally spits the blood filling his mouth._

_Keeps still in Jack's vise-like grip, and all Jack takes from his quick assessment of the situation is that_ _he must be too worn out to attack. After all, there's no way of telling how long he's been trapped inside the Vault._

_"Yeah but nah, this is... this is impossible," Jack mutters, mostly to himself, and reaches out with his free hand to poke at the glowing symbols. "The ancient Pandoran writings only mentioned six Sirens as a constant equation... always females... so where would you idiot even fit...?"_

_Rhys whines in response, the sound meek and wet - and he flinches away from his touch._ _Jack pokes him harder._

_Angel's markings too have a tendency of growing oversensitive when active._

_"You're a freakin'..." He giggles, unable to stop himself. He's still pissed as all hell about the Vault, but there's a new kind of excitement swelling inside him like a bubble. There's_  something of worth _in this Vault, after all. "_ _You're a freaking male Siren!"_

_He looks down Rhys' body, just to make sure, and nods._

_"Yup, dick and balls! Right there!"_

_With a pensive hum, he releases the Siren, causing his head to fall instantly back and hit the stone ground forehead-first, like a lifeless puppet._

_From the lack of movement or sound that follows, Jack concludes that he must have fallen unconscious again, and he watches in fascination as the glow of power on his entire left side vanishes, snuffed like a candle._

_It reminds him of the random chances he gets to sneak out of Helios to check up on Angel, and often he'd arrive just in time to watch her fall asleep mid-task, crushed by the exhaustion of overwork. On those occasions, Jack would always remain up on the main base, watching his baby girl displayed on an entire wall of monitors solely dedicated to her. It always ends up better than going to visit her in person, and then having to avoid her constant, childish demands that she be set free for a few hours, or at least brought some toys._

_Jack rolls his eyes at the memory, and ignores the sudden tightness in his chest._

_It's truly funny how Sirens have a habit of butting into Handsome Jack's life uninvited._ _And ruining it._

_Even though in theory, this particular Siren cannot possibly exist._

_"Hey, just a crazy thought, but what if_ you  _were_ _my Vault treasure," Jack muses out loud, and braces himself with his palms flat on each side of the unconscious man._

_He leans closer, avid eyes roaming the length of Rhys' body with a wicked glee._

_"A male Siren. Shit. I'm sure I can find some use for you, gorgeous."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear (because I know I NEVER am): Jack has the scar(/mask) left from the first Vault key. Also in my AU, the Eridium is very special*:・ﾟ✧ but I'll explain all that at a later date. Let's just say not everyone can handle it?


	3. Trust, part 1

* * *

_Has it been weeks... or months?_

The Robosphere hummed back to life, laser beam pointing at Rhys' chest, sending all his thoughts scattering.

The electric current seared through Rhys like lightning, the shock wave sending him stumbling back.

Afterwards his ears rang as if a grenade had gone off right next to him, and the ground was suddenly acting kind of loopy. He fell to his hands and knees, right arm emitting a metallic groan of protest; he grunted, the sound morphing into a sob when the white hot pain didn't dissipate as fast as it used to. With every passing test, it was only getting way, _way_ worse _._  He was convulsing from head to toe, vision going blurry at the edges.

He hiccuped twice but stopped himself short of puking all over the metal floor, grounding his teeth and fighting to keep the mounting nausea at bay.

His resolve didn't last long: soon he heaved again, and with no warning whatsoever the world around him turned into a pitch black night.

"N-no..." Rhys moaned, and tried to blink back the Siren powers overcoming his vision.

But it was soon clear that he'd lost all control over his abilities, too worn down and hurting to be able to focus on anything.

The Hyperion bastards had finally won.

With an angry moan Rhys tried one last time to find that tiny blue flame inside him, tried to put it out by sheer power of will - but all it did was flicker away from his grasp, almost like it were mocking his weak attempts at curbing it.

Rhys took a deep, shaky breath as the burning in his left side became a quieter, more familiar burn. It somehow dulled the myriad of other sore places inside his body, which was a relief. A couple more breaths and his nausea too was residing.

But at what cost.

Carefully, he looked up, and _there_  were the silhouettes. Everything around him was black and nonexistent - save for the silhouettes. 

Right across from him were the small group of scientists; an agglomerate of red energy, vibrant and hostile.

He tried to get up on trembling legs, and his enhanced eyes swiped aimlessly over the rest of the facility as he struggled.

Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by red. He could see the silhouettes of the guards posted at the entry of the chamber, and he could see the rest of them patrolling the grounds. He could see the scientists far away in the distance, at various levels of the Hyperion infrastructure. And he could see the bigger, less familiar shapes of the wild animals pacing nervously in their pens, or sleeping down in their burrows.

Intellectually, Rhys had always known where he were since nobody had tried to keep the company name a secret to him, and his _very dire_ situation had been clear from the get-go. But it was one thing to know it, and experience a tiny fraction of it at a time - and another to _see_  it _all_ with his own eyes; to fully measure the scale of the enemies surrounding him, keeping him prisoner in their midst.

Feeling dizzy and possibly on the verge of a panic attack, Rhys barely managed to stand on one foot before his body gave up on him, bare knee hitting back the ground with a heavy sound.

He swiped a hand over his sweaty forehead, mind a mess of conflicting emotions and thoughts.

Above him, the hovering Robosphere looked like a crimson sun, alight with unfriendly intentions. The rest of the scientists had yet to say anything, no doubt busy analyzing each and every one of his movements. Rhys knew he had to look downright terrifying right now, with his fully black eyes and glowing arm. They were probably expecting him to  _do_ something now - like make the robot implode, or melt it with a single touch.

They couldn't possibly know his not-so impressive power was already at work.

_"A sedative... it might... but it's working..."_

Rhys was so exhausted he couldn't even strain himself enough to hear what they were planning to do next. He'd finally reached his limits. He wished he could say it had taken them ages to break him, but it'd have been a lie. Keeping track of time in this hell had been impossible, but even he knew it hadn't taken them even a standard space year.

But the thing was - Rhys had never been a fighter. Despite his abilities, he'd never _wanted_ this. He'd actively avoided conflicts his whole damn life, always pretending to be just like everybody else. Boringly human and average.

Till the day he'd woken up in that Vault, with Handsome Jack trying to beat answers out of him.

So even thought he had always known this day would come soon enough, it still left him feeling demoralized. Rhys was no hero; he was incapable of all the strength and courage he'd heard so many stories about. But a tiny part of him had still hoped... 

And now they knew how to break him, and if he were to refuse all cooperation, they'd simply keep on _taking_ instead of _asking_ , right until the day it  _killed_ him. And then they'd have no problem pursuing their experiments on his dead corpse. Rhys had heard them talk about his dissection enough times to know what the future held for him if he kept fighting.

 _I want to live_ , he thought. Fiercely.

And that was when she appeared to him.

In the all-encompassing darkness, in the middle of a sea of red - there was suddenly a light.

It was incredibly small, flickering in and out of his sight. Rhys had to smash his nose against the cool floor and focus hard as he could until the silhouette appeared again. White and beautiful. Welcoming.

The elation this discovery brought him was more happiness than he thought he'd ever felt in his entire life. There was _someone_ , down there, who was willing to _help_  him. Who was on _his_ side. He was not alone anymore.

There was hope!

"The... the woman," he stuttered, her shoulder-length hair and rather feminine silhouette easily distinguishable once he focused, " ... in the ground..."

He wanted to say more, to ask who she was and if he could see her, talk to her,  _anything -_ when something stung him in the neck.

 _A needle_ , Rhys' fuzzy brain supplied right before he collapsed.

* * *

**> Specimen R27 - Status report.**

**>**

**> Breakthrough achieved on: day** **89 at 04:30 p.m. CMT.**

**>**

**> ROBOSPHERE, Personal Log, Entry 1.**

**> _We finally cracked the kid, sir! Took a while but we did it. Today he exhibited some kind of... special vision for approximately... twenty-five minutes before we had to put an end to the session. His heart-rate... was spiraling out of control, but that must have been a reaction to the shock therapy... not the powers. He claims he's willing to cooperate, but before we go any further... you need to check this._**

**>**

**>  Transcription [SR27_Block5_90]: Available.**

**>**

**> Transcription loading...**

**>...**

**>...**

**>**

**> BLOCK 5 - DAY 90.**

**> Specimen [R27].**

**> Protocol 14 - Post Recovery.**

**>  **

**> _Professor NAKAYAMA in charge of interrogation._**

**>**

**> _Inquiry made over_ [VAULT OF THE SUMMONER]: Answer unclear.**

**> _Inquiry made over_ [GUARDIAN]: Answer unclear.**

**> _Inquiry made over_  [ERIDIUM]: Answer unclear.**

**> _Inquiry made over_  [VAULT HUNTERS]: Answer unclear.**

**>   _Inquiry made over_ [SA01]: SR27 has agreed to cooperate with Hyperion Corp. research, including disclosure of full potential of Siren abilities in exchange of cessation of forceful experiments, and direct access to SA01.**

**>**

**> ROBOSPHERE, Personal Log, Entry 2.**

**> _We didn't tell him anything about HER. He found out on his own. Just watch the damn thing!_**

**>**

**>  Video attachment loading...**

**> ...**

**> ...**

**>  **

* * *

Seventy hours later, Handsome Jack's shuttle was landing on Pandora.


	4. Trust, part 2

The dome was located in a remote section of the underground base and it looked, in all fairness, like an upended fishbowl - except that it was a force-field and no amount of prodding or hitting had brought any positive results. It was a wall of pure energy, reinforced on the outer side by walls of thick, bulletproof glass.

Privacy hadn't featured on the menu.

One little perk of the transparent dome was however that he could see anyone coming from afar, for as long as it didn't happen during the night when the lights were all out and his world was a pit of darkness, only breached by the random sound of heavy paws hitting the ground, and other sounds betraying the presence of all the creatures held captive just like him.

So when Handsome Jack came to visit some time after the most intense interrogation he'd been subjected to so far - Rhys saw him coming, and braced himself accordingly. He walked round his rudimentary bed and positioned himself behind, using it like a shield between himself and the master of Hyperion. It was a ridiculous move, especially seeing that he was already trapped inside the dome with no escape. And furthermore, nothing suggested they had brought their boss to beat him up some more when they had just as much capable mercenaries at their service, who'd done an excellent job of making Rhys feel like he'd been run over by a gang of Psychos.

But he could never be too cautious. Not down here.

Handsome Jack was flanked on one side by a woman in an eccentric but elegant outfit, a round hat covering short brown hair, and on the other by what Rhys could only describe as a 'giant' with enough guns to equip a small army, and a sour expression to go with the ensemble. Rhys had no idea who the woman was, but he could tell the beefcake man was a bodyguard from the way his eyes kept darting from one corner of the base to the other, scanning the place for any threat.

And trailing behind them were the short-tempered professor with the foul breath who'd interrogated Rhys on multiple occasions, accompanied by Robosphere.

Following Handsome Jack's lead, the small group came to a halt a short distance from the force-field.

Handsome Jack peered inside the dome, and the shark-like smile that split his face upon seeing Rhys made the latter break into a cold sweat. He felt queasy, and wished he could hide from the scrutiny of those mismatched eyes.

"Yeah, you remember me," Handsome Jack didn't ask, but stated with all the confidence in the world. He'd certainly noticed the cold recognition reflected in Rhys' defensive behavior. "I tend to leave a lasting impression on people. I don't know, it's just my thing."

The woman with the hat rolled her eyes behind him, and took out an ECHO Comm, whatever happening right now clearly holding no interest for her. Rhys frowned, disliking her and her attitude on the spot. But then he kind of hated everyone who was directly or indirectly affiliated with Handsome Jack.

His tattoos flared up, but Rhys didn't bother smothering the power this time.

"Yeah! That's what I wanna see!"

Jack clapped his hands enthusiastically, which made Rhys' eye twitch. That level of cheerfulness was absolutely grating on his nerves. And some core part of him really hated giving Handsome Jack what he wanted, or any of his Hyperion minions. 

But for the time being, he'd no other options but to comply.

"Come on, you can let the wings out, too! Don't mind little me."

Rhys glared at him, just because he could.

That did not escape Handsome Jack's notice, and if possible his smile grew wider as he waited expectantly.

He knew he had the Siren, now. Had to have been updated on Rhys' surrender, and his agreement to work with the Hyperion scientists - that explained the reason of his presence on the base. He'd never bothered to come here before... or at least, not that Rhys had been aware of. And he was not  _aware_ of much to begin with - not since his capture.

All he knew now was surrender to survive, or keep on resisting until you die.

It was all so goddamned unfair Rhys could have  _screamed_.

But he didn't.

Instead, he let his wings unfurl, coaxing them back into this dimension. And despite himself, he took no small amount of pride when he heard a few gasps. He'd never made them apparent in public, taught from a very young age that it was better to hide than to face Pandora's greed for a rarity like him. But from what he'd gathered from all the tales about Sirens that could be heard across the galaxy, his wingspan had to be the double than that of an average female Siren. He actually had to curb the tips in order to avoid hitting the force-field.

Their width had probably something to do with the fact that he was male; built taller, and stronger than most women.

He swiftly averted his eyes from the small crowd staring at him in awe, and for some unknown reason he most of all avoided meeting Handsome Jack's gaze. 

There were a few frenzied whispers, and Rhys caught the now familiar sounds of Robosphere coming to life and setting a visual recording in motion.

"So, about that woman you saw," Handsome Jack's voice was like a magnet, forcing Rhys' attention back on him effortlessly. "In the... ground, or whatever. Tell me about her."

Rhys could recognize a test when he was given one. There was _something_ harder in the other man's eyes, now. There was suspicion, and challenge, and an underlying _threat_ in Handsome Jack's words, and Rhys knew he had better be careful if he wanted to get out of this one with all his remaining body parts intact.

"I don't know... I don't know much," he admitted. "All I know is... she's not like you. Like the rest of you."

The mismatched eyes narrowed, the dark eyebrows of his mask dipping into a sharp V.

"What do you _mean_."

Handsome Jack had lost all his previous cheeriness, tone turning ice cold.

Rhys did his best to remain unaffected.

 _The test_ , he reminded himself.  _Don't fail the test._

So instead of mentioning the woman's wings - a Siren, he'd seen another Siren locked away somewhere in the facility - he kept his mouth shut. Handsome Jack  _had_ to know about her true nature, anyway.

"One of my skills," he began, and he could almost feel his audience hold their breath, directing all their attention at him. "I call it 'Trust'. It's some kind of a... secondary vision, that allows me to distinguish allies from enemies."

He sighed, enjoying the remnants of his freedom. The last time he were in total control of his life before it was stolen away from him, sucked dry by a corrupted corporation and its psycho-maniac of a President.

"Do you have to know them?" The woman with the hat chimed in, her ECHO Comm nowhere to be seen.

Rhys shrugged, and turned to her with the answer on the tip of his tongue when the professor cut him off in his usual authoritative, and frankly rude way. "What is your range? And how long can you sustain that 'vision' of yours?"

The Siren flailed, unsure who to answer to first. He looked from one to the other, avoiding Handsome Jack's hawk-like focus which was undoubtedly on him the whole time, and eventually settled on answering in order.

"N-no," he stuttered at first, but quickly recovered, "it can be complete strangers. Um, I've never needed to push it much, so I guess I've never reached farther than... um, maybe 1 mile and a half? And I can usually sustain it for as long as I want."

Rhys gulped loudly, a strange mix of confidence and nerves coursing through him. He knew his powers would protect him now that he could wield them at will, but the nerves were no longer a result of a _direct_ fear for his life. It was the impression that he was performing like an exotic animal in front of a crowd, and that  _that_ performance had to be his _very_ best - or he could end up never seeing the light of day ever again.

He had to convince them he could be a useful asset. 

He had to make it clear that he was cooperating at 100%.

Because...

_I don't want to die down here._

...he was too weak to be brave any more.

"How did the woman appear to you?" The professor went on, unperturbed by Rhys' sudden vacant look.

"She was... made out of bright light," He stumbled, looking for a way to describe it. "Like a beacon-"

"Alright, enough with the chitchats," Handsome Jack interrupted him.

He summoned a keypad at the forefront of the dome, keyed-in the code and brought down the force-field, the layer of protective glass slowly retracting into the ground.

Then, with a sneer etched deep into his features, Handsome Jack walked up to the middle of what had been Rhys' dome-room, and planted himself in front of Rhys' narrow bed, leaving the modest piece of furniture between them. For now.

Behind him, the heavily-armed beefcake was huffing his discontent at such a risky move: Rhys' wings were still on display, only now fully expanding above and around him. He was still a powerful Siren, and he wasn't hiding it anymore. But apparently, that wasn't anything threatening enough to deter someone like Handsome Jack.

"And what do _I_ look like. Go on, do your thing."

Rhys flinched at the order, then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and sought the blue flame inside him.

It took maybe a fraction of a second, but to him it felt longer.

When he opened his eyes again, he knew they were two pools of black.

Handsome Jack laughed when he looked at him, opening his arms. 

"Well?"

* * *

Handsome Jack's silhouette was a bright crimson, and when he smiled and showed teeth - he looked like a demon.

"Uhh... red," Rhys murmured. "Red is bad."

"Great! Now how did you call this little trick, again? Trust? I think we need something _cooler_ than that, right? And, you know, less  _lame?_  How about... say, 'Detection'!"

 _Sounds robotic_ , Rhys thought, but kept his mouth shut.

"Sounds good to _me_ ," Handsome Jack went on without a pause, not caring to hear anyone else's opinion. "Can't wait to discover the rest of you, Rhysie!"

Rhys flinched again, this time at the nickname.

He probably had to stop doing that - stop reacting so obviously to Handsome Jack, but it was hard when standing in front of a glowing red monster that was grinning at him.

"I can show you everything else," he promised, "I'll do it, and... do whatever else you want me to do, but I need out of here."

This time he decided against mentioning the woman altogether. The other Siren.

The hostility in the other man's behavior every time someone spoke of her had been obvious enough to make Rhys doubt he'd have any luck pushing with a request to make her acquaintance. Now he could only hope he'd be able to find some other way to reach her later, once he was hopefully out of his prison. Once he could walk around on his own, without a flock of scientists constantly breathing down his neck. 

Jack cocked his head, studying him in silence. His silhouette flickered like flames as he mulled Rhys' request over.

"Fine, if you agree to work for me, I'm getting you out _right_ now. Pinkie promise."

Rhys almost snorted at that last statement.

 _What the fuck_ , he admonished himself immediately.  _He's a murderous psycho-maniac. Don't laugh?_

He almost sighed in relief when Handsome Jack didn't offer his pinkie. 

Actually, he didn't even offer his hand.

"Uh, a-alright," Rhys' voice was embarrassingly high with trepidation, and he tried to bring it a few notches down. "I mean... deal?"

"Deal," Handsome Jack parroted.

It felt weird not to shake hands, but Rhys wasn't going to complain about the lack of contact between them. So with the confirmation that he wasn't a prisoner no more, Rhys made a move to step around the bed and finally _step out_ of here of his own accord - but Handsome Jack made a gesture and his bodyguard was standing next to the Siren in a few giant strides.

"Take care of him," Handsome Jack ordered, all matter-of-fact.

"Wait... what is happening?"

Rhys blinked back into his normal vision just in time to catch Handsome Jack winking at him.

Fucking  _winking._

"What, don't you get it, yet? You're my _pet_ , now, Rhysie. That's the deal! And pets need collars if they're going to roam free."

_Pet?!_

Rhys' tattoos blazed anew with fury at the condescending tone, but before he could open his mouth the bodyguard was on him, grabbing him by the throat without a care about his flailing wings or glowing arm - and punched him in the temple.

* * *

He woke up with a headache that felt like it was about to split his head in two.

He was lying somewhere uncomfortable, and his surroundings were bright to the point of blinding. The constant flow of light didn't do anything to alleviate his headache. Squinting, he brought his hand to his temple where the pain seemed to originate from, and the tips of his fingers came in contact with something... alien.

Round.

Metal.

"Neural port," he heard the old professor explain in his dry, croaky voice. "Now go the fuck back to sleep, will ya."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, they could have drilled that neural port into Rhys' brain any time they wanted. But, see, where's the fun in doing that without breaking Rhys' spirit first? And making it seem like _he_ agreed to it? I mean, he could have spent his time taking it out every time they put it back in anyway, so. DO I MAKE SENSE?? IDK ANYMORE.  
>  PS: THANK YOU FOR READING! and for the kudos, and comments, and for forgiving all my mistakes, etc etc <3


	5. Messenger, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the people like me: 200 lbs is ~90 kg
> 
> Also, idk what _"the planet rotation day is over 90 hours long"_ means in terms of daytime/nighttime, so I've decided arbitrarily to make it 13h of night and 79h of day (= 92 hours in total).
> 
> P.S.: As stated in chapter 2 (Vault flashback), Rhys already has mismatched eyes, and none of them is an ECHO-eye. He won't get one in my story because I don't care about it, and it wouldn't serve me or my story at all. Just putting this out there if it wasn't clear enough! Also, as I'll explain next chappy, the neural port is just a tracking device, and nothing else, so don't worry about it.
> 
> P.P.S.: Unbeta'd, sorry.

* * *

Rhys spent the first few days post-operation in a heavily medicated daze.

Despite the pain medication, he was experiencing recurrent migraines caused by the incessant throbbing on the left side of his skull. It wasn't excruciating, but he couldn't ignore it for a single waking moment. But despite being bedridden for the time being, per stern instruction from one of the Hyperion nurses periodically monitoring his vitals; despite whatever device they'd managed to drill inside his head and the consequences it was bound to bring; despite his deal with the Devil himself - he was still... alive

And being alive meant there was still hope.

It was that thought that kept him going day after day, migraine after migraine.

* * *

 

The day he could finally walk out of the room, the guards didn't stop him, but he felt their stare on his back like a physical reminder.  _'Careful what you do, now'_ they seemed to imply.  _'We're always watching.'_

It was still an improvement from the glass dome, and a huge one. Rhys was now free to roam the facility on his own; to explore, and realize the whole place was built as a giant cylindre that spiraled as well above as below surface. The only levels he was allowed to visit were underground, with the exception of the one where he suspected the other Siren was held captive.

He could only go to the surface level accompanied by a pair of guards, and the turrets and loader bots guarding the exits there finished planting the realization that he would never be able to escape. Even if he could outrun an army of guards and machines, they'd still end up shooting him on sight in the open field stretching behind those gates.

After a heartfelt plea to one of the guards, Rhys had been allowed to take a few steps outside the main gate, and had almost teared up when he'd seen the Pandoran sun for the first time in what had felt like years in artificial light.

After a regime of eighty hours of sunlight a day, he'd been _starving_  for a little sunshine.

It only took a little more cajoling to convince one of the guards always tailing him -  _'name's August, and stop fucking whining, already!'_  - to agree to accompany him for a supervised daily walk.

* * *

 

One moment Rhys was stepping into the manufactured habitat and the thick glass door was sliding shut behind him, leaving him blinded by the overhead lights. The next - he was knocked to the ground by 200 lbs of Pandoran killer.

The youngest skag of the pack wiggled her rear in excitement atop him, and between gasping for air and spitting back dust the Siren managed to return the greeting back.

"Yeah, love you too, big girl," he coughed out, wincing as her sharp claws clenched ever so slightly where they were buried in the front of his jacket.

He patted her flank, mindful of the protruding bony plates. Then immediately regretted that mark of affection when corrosive slobber started streaming from her large mouth.

"Shit! Shit, shit, playtime's over, girl!"

Using his Hyperion-issued arm, Rhys pushed the heavy skag off him as gently as he could without panicking, and it only took a little cajoling to get her to step down from his chest before her deadly secretions could start searing holes in him.

Once free he sat up and sighed in relief.

Only to have her charge at him again, this time with her vertical jaws fluttering open.

"No, no, no, NO!"

* * *

 

Rhys spent the next hour administrating each of the skags their doses of Eridium. They were a total of twenty-eight, all living in one of the compounds on the facility level Rhys used to be held prisoner with the rest of these creatures. 

It was obvious the Hyperion scientists knew little of the effects of the Eridium on living beings, and Rhys wasn't about to butt in and give his unsolicited opinion. He knew the Eridium was poisoning the animals more than it was 'improving' anything about them, but he suspected the well-being of a few skags wasn't a priority to Handsome Jack or anyone else in this hell company.

Of course, the substance would make them bigger and stronger, and improve their powers, but it had never been meant to be _ingested_ , or received intravenously. Furthermore, animals wouldn't know how to control the effects with their minds. Not like Sirens could. Or any human brave enough to try to control the power themselves.

Rhys held onto that knowledge day after day as he fed and cared for the skags, and watched with a disapproving frown as each day, the creatures grew resistant to the stuff, and had to be given double the dose.

Fucking scientists.

If they wanted to ask him what he knew about the Eridium, or about the prosthetic arm they stole that was clearly powered by it, they remained surprisingly silent on that topic. Rhys knew they'd come to him eventually, but it seemed they weren't ready yet to share with him the extent of what they were aiming to achieve with the purple rocks they understood so little.

* * *

 

Rhys was soon asked to resume the tests on his person, but this time, he was allowed to actively participate in the way they were conducted, and allowed to give his opinion on each and every one of them.

He, of course, immediately veto'd the electroshocks. They were useless, he explained, now that he was a willing participant.

The scientists reluctantly agreed.

As a result, the whole processus wasn't as painful as it used to be. And the moment his newly installed neural port started to throb, and the migraines would return, he was free to return to his room and rest.

Eventually, he showed to scientists his final power, the one that required more focus and stamina than the eyes trick. With one hand, he grabbed a drakefruit, held it up for all to see, then turning his other hand incorporeal, slid it inside the fruit - and watched it explode when his hand re-materialized inside.

"I call this Phase Slide," he told them. 

When asked how Sirens gave names to their powers, he shrugged. "I met a Siren once, when I was younger. I mean, not really met her, but I saw her use her powers, and people around her kept whispering 'phase blast, phase blast'. I guess I thought it was a cool name, and did the same. I just didn't showcase it like she did." 

* * *

 

It took some time and effort, but eventually Rhys was able to tell the domesticated animals from the feral ones, and after she kept singling him out and showering him with (acidic) affection, Rhys decided to name the female skag 'Sera'. The scientists barely lifted an eyebrow at his eccentricities.

After some more time, he could also tell the sell-out psychos from the truly mad, and avoided the latter religiously.

He also found out not all the militia guarding the facility were Hyperion folks. A majority of them seemed to be mere mercenaries, and August appeared to be their leader the day a group of them cornered Rhys and tried to intimidate him, only to have their asses handed to them by a very pissed off, very trigger-happy August.

Rhys could tell that August guy had taken... well, not a  _liking_ to him, that'd be too strong a sentiment. But he was taking Rhys' protection to heart, and despite their glaring contests and all the grunts and insults on August's side, Rhys still felt safer than he'd been in a long time when he knew the mercenary had his back.

* * *

 

When Handsome Jack visited again, Rhys had almost forgotten how much he'd dreaded the man. Hell, he'd almost forgotten all about their first encounter, so many months having gone by and the scientists keeping him so busy with their questions and experiments.

Nobody had thought necessary to warn Rhys of the President of Hyperion's plans, so the day the man made a return, he found Rhys outside the facility, wings spread wide to stretch his mental muscles. The Siren didn't notice anything was amiss at first, eyes closed, facing towards the sun.

It was August that gave it away, Rhys noticing the sudden rigidity in the mercenary's stance, a few feet away from him (August was still averse to standing too close to the Siren whenever his arm was aglow and his powers were showing). 

Using Detection by habit, Rhys opened a black eye and directed it towards the open field ahead of them. There, in the utter blackness of the world, a mile ahead, he saw the red silhouettes. Three guards, a woman and a tall man at their helm. Their shuttle had to have landed somewhere further down the hill leading to the gates, and they had walked the rest of the way. However, they'd stopped long before their destination, and the guards were now milling about. The man himself wasn't moving. And somehow, Rhys knew it was him.

Handsome Jack was staring back like a man transfixed by a mirage.

Rhys jolted when the realization hit him that it was only him out there, and August, and quickly snuffed the blue flame burning bright inside him. Immediately, his normal eyesight returned, and his wings vanished as the glow in his arm faded.

And just like that, Handsome Jack's party got moving again. When they approached, Rhys had a sudden uncomfortable suspicion he'd get punished for wandering outside, even accompanied, but to his surprise - and relief - he wasn't.

When Handsome Jack walked up to him, Rhys fought off the urge to let his gaze drop to his shoes. Handsome Jack was wearing a pair of sunglasses, but even without staring right into his eyes, it was still hard to look at him. It was like staring in the face of a feral creature, knowing you could be provoking it to attack, and still doing it anyway.

Cold sweat ran down his back, but Rhys held on. He barely even noticed the woman who stood at all times next to Handsome Jack.

Handsome Jack smiled, and somehow that expression worried Rhys more than if he'd been frowning unhappily. A happy Handsome Jack had to mean someone was about to suffer, and he was going to watch.

"Well, well. Fancy meeting _you_ here."

Rhys swallowed, gearing up to reply something, but Handsome Jack's patience ran out before he could make more than a _"uhhh"_ sound.

"Anyway, now that we're all here, let's show you around your new office."

Without any idea about what was happening, Rhys followed Handsome Jack back into the Hyperion facility, followed by the woman, the President's escort and August.

* * *

 

Inside the elevator, Rhys' attention finally turned to the woman who stood between himself and Handsome Jack. He recognized her after only a couple of minutes, the pink highlights in her hair and the fancy bowler hat not that easy to forget. Especially when he recalled how indifferent she'd appeared while he'd been held against his will, and manipulated for profit.

She turned to him at the same moment, and snapped an expected "what are you staring at, dumbass?".

Handsome Jack snorted, but didn't comment.

Rhys didn't flinch in front of her; he suspected she was merely something like a personal assistant or a secretary, so she didn't intimidate him as much as the powerful man she was working under. 

"Your hat," he said innocently. "It's... very distinguished. I was admiring it."

The woman's eyes turned into slits of suspicion. 

"Thank you," she replied tersely.

"I'm Rhys," Rhys offered before she could look away and dismiss him again. He didn't know why exactly he was pushing, but his social interactions had grown very sparse lately, and August's noncommittal grunts couldn't fill that lack so easily.

He had nothing to lose by trying to be a little courteous, now did he? Even if it was killing him a little.

The woman cocked an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile on her pink lips. "I'm Fiona," she said in a tone of voice like she had just won some imaginary argument. "Tell me, how's your employment at Hyperion treating you?"

Rhys frowned. The woman, Fiona, wasn't exactly hostile, but she clearly wasn't willing to play nice, either.

His first reflex was to bite back that he wouldn't be a Hyperion sellout in a million years. But... he couldn't call himself a captive anymore, she was more than right about that. They may have forced his hand, but he'd agreed of his own volition to work for the bastards.

He  _was_ a Hyperion employee.

The thought was chilling.

As if reading his mind, Fiona finally allowed a smile to graze her lips. "Aw, don't make that face, you'll get used to it. Ain't no good or bad in this world. Just... you know, people who know how to get what they want and aren't afraid of it, and... the others, I guess."

Rhys wasn't surprised by her statement. He had heard it before. Hell, he had done some bad shit in his past life, and had defended his decisions in the same exact way. 

It wasn't helping, however. Hyperion were mass-manufacturing evil. That had to be worse than killing a few people, or stealing to survive on this hellhole called Pandora.

Fortunately, the elevator reached its destination before Rhys had to come up with any answer that wouldn't be "hey, you know what, Fiona, fuck you."

They walked out with Handsome Jack leading the group down a narrow corridor, straight to a set of sliding doors. There, Handsome Jack turned to take Rhys by the arm - his grip was almost bruising it was so firm, but Rhys bit back his complaints just in time.

"Wait here," he simply said to the others, and then led Rhys through the doors.

They took a few turns in silence, Rhys' heart beating fast from his proximity with the monster of a man, and the uncertainty of what was about to be done to him, once more. Was Handsome Jack going to lock him up in some torture chamber and proceed with the inhumane tests, breaking his promise and their deal?

"Cheer up, kiddo, I'm not gonna eat ya. It's time for you to meet Hyperion's secret weapon. That's what you wanted, didn't ya?"

They reached another door, this one made of reinforced steel, with a console expecting a password to unlock. Handsome Jack released him there, and looked expectantly at the Siren.

"Uhhh," Rhys' thoughts were all muddled up inside his brain, but he was starting to guess what was going to happen. "Is this..."

Handsome Jack's patience ran out once again, and with a dismissing wave of his hand and an annoyed "yeah, yeah", he turned to the console.

 ** _> Password?  _** it spit out in a robotic female voice.

And that was when Handsome Jack said three words that made Rhys' blood rush to his face in equal part embarrassment, shock and indignation.

"I love you," he said casually, then turned to gauge Rhys' reaction with a mischievous look in his eyes that Rhys could guess even through the opaque sunglasses.

Rhys turned even redder, and tried to conceal it by looking away in shame.

"Hey, gotta make it something nobody would ever think of!" He explained around a laugh, like this whole situation was simply the funniest joke.

 _Well, that's sad_ , Rhys thought with a grimace.  _But also, not surprising._

"It only opens to my voice," Jack warned, "but the password is already solid enough. Now, after you, cupcake. And speed it up, will ya, we've made her wait long enough."

Trying to conceal his excitement at what he was now sure was about to happen, Rhys slowly followed Jack's lead into the chamber that was revealed by the door, and walked into something that reminded him of his own dome. Except it was way bigger, and wasn't made of glass but thick walls and digital screens.

And in the middle of that room, there was a single person seated in intricate chair.

And that was when Rhys experienced a silent, mental breakdown.

* * *

 

_Oh... no. No, no, no. You're... you're just a kid!_

If he'd thought before that Hyperion was a rotten company, Rhys was now convinced it needed to be weeded out at all costs.

Hyperion was a monster growing inside of Pandora like a cancer, sucking the life out of its people. And what he was seeing right now was yet another undeniable proof of that.

"Angel, may I present you Rhysie. He'll be your new friend. Partner. Whatever ya wanna call it. Kiddo, this is Angel. I'm sure her existence isn't news for you."

Rhys followed Jack into the room in a daze, and watched the teenager (she couldn't be more than sixteen? seventeen?) turn the chair around, displaying all the cables connected to the left side of her head, and leading up into the ceiling where they joined another matrix of cables and monitors.

"Angel, pumpkin, show the new kid what you can do."

The girl, Angel, had barely no expression on her face when she complied. She lifelessly lifted her arms, provoking a shift in the air, and then her holographic self manifested right in front of them, hovering just a mere inches from the floor. If Rhys understood correctly, she could probably travel like electricity through every device at her disposal.

She was probably using the countless monitors around the room to project herself where she stood at the moment.

Rhys nodded in acknowledgment, and offered an encouraging, if a little contrite smile. Angel chanced a smile herself, but it looked like a tiny grimace. Rhys didn't hold it against her.

"Go on," Jack elbowed him, bringing Rhys' attention back to the man with a wince. "Your turn. Angel wants to see, too, it's only fair."

Rhys doubted Angel wanted anything other than sleep, seeing the blank stare and the dark bags under her eyes, but he did what was asked of him because making Handsome Jack unhappy led only to uncomfortable outcomes.

He turned his hand incorporeal for a second, something that would barely tire him, and that was it. But it was surprisingly enough to bring the other Siren back to life, her excited squeal taking him by surprise.

"Woah! That was amazing! What else can you do?"

With a shrug, Rhys explained Detection, and proceeded to demonstrate his secondary vision, to Angel's delight.

"What color am I, now? Am I red, too?" She asked curiously, hovering closer.

"Nah. All white."

When his eyes turned back to their normal brown and blue, she was beaming.

Chancing a look at Handsome Jack, Rhys almost jumped out of his own skin. The man had a weird smile on his face; he almost looked... endeared? He was looking at Angel almost like... like a proud parent, and that thought was just so sick it made Rhys' skin crawl. 

Another reason to suspect Handsome Jack was maybe crazier than the psychos running around in the desert eating scrap metal and rocks.

"Alright," he announced all of a sudden, clapping his hands together in obvious satisfaction. "I'mma leave you kids to it. Pumpkin, I trust you to explain everything to him about the  _research_ and how  _important_ it is to all of us? Yes? Great! I'll see ya later, kiddos, just don't have too much fun!"

And with that strange command, he turned on his heels and walked away, leaving Rhys and Angel's hologram to stare at each other awkwardly. 

Angel had to be used to her boss' behavior however, because her awkwardness didn't last long. She was still in higher spirits since Rhys' demonstration of his power, and with a friendly smile, she beckoned her fellow Siren closer to the control center where her physical body still sat, and Rhys followed.

In the middle of Angel's excited blabber about her work, the importance of her powers and the machinery around her being finely attuned to them, Rhys had the nagging sensation that they weren't quite alone just yet.

Carefully, he looked over his shoulder and noticed that Handsome Jack hadn't left, but was lingering at the exit door for what seemed way longer than necessary to enter the code. Rhys studied the way the man's hand hovered over the console without entering the digits, almost as if he was trying to eavesdrop on them - or rather, on Angel's incessant technobabble. 

He wondered what this meant, an uneasy weight settling in his stomach when he tried to put himself in the man's shoes, for just a second.

Angel calling his name brought Rhys' attention back to her, but the uncomfortable weight remained there.

Later, when he checked the door again, Handsome Jack was long gone.

* * *

 


End file.
